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The first night back from the hospital on Kamino, if one could call it that, was an adventure to say the least. His poor little girl just when through the biggest trauma in her life and now they were home. Still, they'd get through this, any parent with a diabetic child would do the same.
Type one diabetes, that was the diagnosis. Just like her namesake. He just knew that if his sister was here, she'd be ten times more capable that him, but she was not. It was up to him to learn what to do, and he'd learn everything for his baby girl. As would her brother.
Boba barely left Arla alone after they entered the hospital room, staying by here side the whole time. Holding her hand as the nurse pricked her finger and administered the insulin. Refusing to leave her bed at night. Listening to everything the doctor had to say. And determinedly paying attention to everything that they now needed to do for his sister. Insisting on knowing how to do injections and finger pokes, counting carbs, and handling high or low blood sugar. And now that they were home insisting on doing everything he could to make her feel better. Even letting Jango prick his finger to show her it was okay and that it wouldn't hurt.
He never knew how many carbs were in things. One eight ounce (8 oz) cup of milk was thirteen carbs (13 g). Or that exactly fifty one (51) goldfish crackers was nineteen carbs (19 g). Normally he'd just pour them out without thinking but now he had to measure and count out everything, twice. To be fair to Arla, he made everything the same portion for both children. Finally being allowed to eat "normal food", as she said, every last bit was eaten. Except for the cheese stick, not that he could blame her after only being allowed that and water for the passed week when ever she was hungry outside of meal times.
Though when the insulin was needed for the food, she cried, wiggling and shaking, begging him not too. It broke his heart, seeing the same reaction from his daughter that he saw from his sister when this happened to her when he was a child. He calmed her crying best he could, though she still sniffled in his lap as he explained he didn't ever want to do this but they no choice. It broke his heart all over again at the look of betrayal edged into her face as he poked the needle into her arm.
At bedtime, Boba refused to go to his own bed, instead taking refuge next to his sister. He let him stay after both of them begged him to let his son stay in Arla's bed. When eleven (11) o'clock rolled around and he when into check Arla's blood sugar to find Boba staring at his sister, constantly beginning to fall asleep but waking himself up at the last moment. Surprised to find his son awake as he was usually the heavy sleeper of the two. That's when the breaking point that shattered his heart came. He sat down and ran his fingers through the boy's curls to grab his attention. Once he finally had it, he asked the question he shouldn't have. Why his son was still awake at eleven (11) o'clock at night. Boba's response torn his shattered heart to pieces. Boba didn't want to sleep in case something happened to his sister. He wanted to be awake to prevent his sister from stopping to breathe. Fearfully explaining that she'd die if he took his eyes off of her.
After that he couldn't, with two moves, Boba and Arla were in his arms and he was walking to his room across the hall. He laid them in his bed that night, he too scared to take his eyes off his children. Boba finally fell asleep once out of his room, his tiny hand resting on his sister's chest, as if to track that Arla was still breathing. When he eventually fell asleep that night, it was when he curled around both of his children as if doing so he could protect them from all harm, whether that be from enemies or diabetes. He couldn't take away her illness but he would do his damn best to make it as easy for her as he could, that he promised to both of his children that night.